


Lips Like A Bear Trap

by TheGirlInThePinkScarf



Series: Red Sox Postseason Celebrations [1]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Boston Red Sox, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlInThePinkScarf/pseuds/TheGirlInThePinkScarf
Summary: Beer. Champagne. Blow Jobs. That’s how you celebrate going to the ALCS.





	Lips Like A Bear Trap

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write Porcello and Sale for a little while now, but I couldn’t really think of anything.
> 
> After all the praising that they did of each other after they beat the Yankees, I decided to write a celebration fic.
> 
> Title appropriately taken from part of a lyric in “Gettin Some Head” by Lil Wayne.
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy this little PWP!

* * *

  _Wet your mouth, before you blow._

**_Becky-Plies_ **

* * *

Rick’s lips are so soft and quick when they brush against Sale’s, that Chris thinks he imagined the kiss. It’s definitely not in his head when Rick backs him into the nearest wall in the mostly empty visitor’s clubhouse. His thin t-shirt is sticking to his skin because it’s completely drenched with beer and champagne, so he can easily feel Porcello’s fingers caressing his abs. He runs his hands up and down Sale’s stomach as he deepens the kiss. They definitely need to get into the shower soon because they’re both soaked, but Rick doesn’t want to move right now.

“It was so fucking hot watching you shut down the Yankees in the eighth tonight,” Rick whispers against his lips.

“You set the tone, I couldn’t blow the game for you,” Chris says.

“Speaking of blowing things . . . ”

Porcello sinks down to his knees and Sale lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. They should _really_ find someplace a little bit more private to do this; like the shower or even a closet somewhere. The rational part of his brain completely shuts down the moment that Rick pulls his pants down just past his knees. Chris has been half-erect since the game ended, so it doesn’t take long for him to get completely hard. He removes Porcello’s hat so that he can get to his hair. Sale loves seeing Rick’s pretty face entirely uncovered. He softly pulls on his dark strands as Porcello swallows more of his dick.

“ _Shit._ I should pitch well in close-out games more often!” Chris jokes.

Rick would laugh if his mouth wasn’t full. Instead, he puts all his effort into getting Chris off. They’re not in the direct eye-line of any of their teammates who are still hanging around the locker room. The deep grunts coming out of Sale’s mouth can’t be heard over the music that’s still blasting, but Rick still wants to hurry things along. He uses one of his hands to hold Chris’ hips in place so that he doesn’t thrust too hard and choke him. His fingers may be slender, but Sale has very big hands. Porcello takes the one that’s massaging his scalp and he moves it to the back of his head. He can tell that Chris wants to take some form of control, so he’s letting him know that it’s ok.

Chris slowly guides Rick’s movements at first. He makes sure that he’s breathing comfortably because he’s not trying to hurt his fellow pitcher at all. Once he gets in a good rhythm, he briefly closes his eyes in ecstasy. The adrenaline from winning combined with Rick’s sweet mouth is quickly making his orgasm approach. Every time the head of his cock reaches the back of Porcello’s throat, Chris lets out a loud moan. He loves looking down and seeing how pornographic that Rick looks with saliva leaking out the corner of his mouth. He hums around his cock and the unexpected sensation makes Chris bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip.

“Where do you want me to . . . ”

His sentence gets cut off with a sharp moan because Rick gently massages one of his balls. He switches to the other one and Chris loves the sensation. He’s glad that he’s being supported by a wall because Sale’s legs feel like Jell-O right now. When he doesn’t feel the warm heat of Rick’s mouth anymore, Chris’ half-lidded eyes pop back open. He watches Rick suck on two of his fingers and he knows exactly what he’s up to. Porcello goes back to eagerly sucking his dick once his fingers are slick. He slowly slips one of them inside Sale’s hole. He adds another finger once he feels Chris loosen around him. Rick thrusts them, making sure to massage the spots where he’s the most sensitive. Chris can’t find his voice, so he just taps Rick on the shoulder as a warning.

Instead of pulling off, Rick just continues sucking his brain out through his dick. Sale’s body quivers as he cums down Rick’s throat. He immediately pulls out when Porcello starts to cough a little bit. He helps him stand up and he asks him if he’s ok. Rick gives him a thumb’s up and tells him that he’s fine. Chris pulls him in for a slow, passionate kiss. He can taste a mix of himself, champagne, and beer on his tongue. Sale reaches for the waistband of Porcello’s pants, but Rick shakes his head. Chris gives him a confused look.

“We don’t have time,” Rick says.

Chris laughs. “I highly doubt that the team will leave without us.”

“I don’t want a quick blow job. What I want to do to you won’t be quick at all,” Rick whispers before he turns around to walk toward the shower.

“You can’t say something like that and then just walk away!” Sale yells after him.

* * *

So Rick may not be able to have the slow fuck that he wants, but Chris ends up giving him a quick BJ in the shower. It’s a bit sloppy and uncoordinated at first because he apparently hasn’t had as much “practice” as Porcello has. They manage to actually get clean and then they go their separate ways once they’re done. Despite this, they still get a few knowing looks and smirks from their teammates. David Price just shakes his head in amusement as he walks up to Rick’s locker once he’s completely dressed.

“I forgot that you have a thing for pitchers,” David comments.

Porcello scoffs. “What? I don’t have a _thing_ for pitchers.”

“So, you haven’t had a string of pitchers that you’ve messed around with since high school?” David challenges.

“Shit, maybe you’re right,” Rick realizes.

* * *

“So, do you only blow pitchers?” Benny asks on the plane.

Porcello almost chokes on his spit. “Uh . . . I guess. I mean, I only have in the past.”

“Well, let me know if you’re ever interested in changing that,” Benny says with a wink.

**Author's Note:**

> Depending on how things shake out this postseason, I may be writing more Red Sox fic.
> 
> They’re not my #1 team, but they have lots of players that I love and I root for them often!
> 
> So even if I don’t write about more Red Sox players this postseason, I’ll probably be writing about them sometime in the future!


End file.
